


Shades of Grey

by nothingelsematters



Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: Boys Being Boys, Gen, and trying on each others' clothes, bffs max and josh, bffs mirai and max, competition nerves, fluffnstuff, hello brain seriously wtf u doing, josh playing guitar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-21
Updated: 2017-09-21
Packaged: 2019-01-01 05:14:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12149370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nothingelsematters/pseuds/nothingelsematters
Summary: It was supposed to be just a joke between friends. Then Mirai showed Tom the picture, and that was how Max found himself standing on international ice wearing a costume that bore more than a passing resemblance to Joshua's.It wasn't really all that bad.Pre-US Classic ridiculousness.





	Shades of Grey

**Author's Note:**

> I wasn't the only one who looked at Max's new SP costume and thought, "damn, that looks a lot like Joshua's Schindler's List shirt", right? My brain followed that thought to its logical conclusion*
> 
>  
> 
> * The logical conclusion is that Max just decided it was the least sparkle-prone idea. My brain's conclusion is that it HAD to come from this. Obviously.

Josh was sitting on his bed, strumming his guitar, while Max rummaged around in his closet. Josh had reorganised his living space recently, and one of Max's textbooks had fallen victim, ending up in a storage shelf somewhere in his closet. Even as he watched, Max let out a cry of triumph and straightened up - straight into the hanging rail.

"Ow! Oops, sorry!"

"No problem," Josh grinned back at Max, who now had at least three of Josh's costumes on top of him. "Sorry that I stuck your book in there."

"That's fine," Max began untangling himself from the pile of fabric and rhinestones. "Ew, so many stones, how do you do it? They annoy me so much."

Josh laughed. The to stone-or-not to stone argument was an old one, one they revisited every season or so. (Max had declared victory on that last round; at least until he had stepped onto the ice in that matador costume, at which point Josh had sent him three I TOLD YOU SO texts in a row.)

"But they accent the movement."

"They distract from the movement," Max argued, but without any real heat. "If you need sparkles to draw attention to the movement, aren't you doing it wrong?"

The last part was a new argument, and temporarily stumped Josh for an answer.

"We're up against Jason," he said at last, and his grin slipped wider. "C'mon, we have to compete against that charisma  _somehow_."

Max chuckled as he hung two of Josh's costumes back on the rail and bent to pick up the last one. Josh's grin faded as he saw which one it was -

_the smoke of a ghost, the wisp of a tragic memory, a violin calling them not to remember the sins of the past -_

"Hey, what material did they use for the lining of this?" Max asked, curious. "It's really soft."

Josh shrugged, recalling himself to the present. "Not sure. You'd have to ask Pat. It was really comfy, though. Felt like wearing a normal practice shirt."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Try it, if you like."

Max's only answer was to shrug off his t-shirt. Josh leaned back on the bed, strumming his guitar and absent-mindedly taking mental notes. Max was in peak shape, his body fat must be at its low point, and that was earlier than usual. Clearly he wasn't taking any chances. He watched as Max slipped the blousy shirt over his head, and laughed as he wriggled awkwardly into it; to say that Max and Josh had different body types would be an understatement, to say the least.

Finally taking pity on his friend, Josh got up and tugged the hem of the shirt down, settling it over Max's shoulders and down to his hips.

"You're right," Max nodded. "That's really comfy." He twisted and bent a couple of times. "I could compete in this."

"It looks good on you," Josh told him honestly. "I mean, okay, it doesn't fit  _quite_ right-"

Max tossed Josh his phone. "Take a picture so I can see. Tom wants me to be open to all costume ideas this season." Max rolled his eyes. "He's still convinced he can get me into something with a thousand stones on it. He's wrong."

Josh snorted with laughter. "Strike a pose!"

Max lifted his arms into a pose from his short program, they heard the noise of the phone taking the picture, and then Josh was helping him wriggle out of the shirt. Neither thought any more about it.

*

"Whoa, hold up, what was that?"

Max nearly jumped through the roof.

"God, Mirai, don't sneak up on me like that!"

"It improves your jump height," Mirai grinned, shrugging, and grabbed Max's phone before he could protest further.

He'd had the gallery open, looking for a picture, and had swiped onto the picture of him in Josh's costume.

"You were  _wearing his clothes_?" Mirai raised her eyebrows.

Max rolled his eyes and elbowed Mirai in the ribs. "Yeah, sure."

"Got something you want to talk to me about?"

"Ha, ha. Because I really want to find out the many ways in which Jason would dismember me. No thanks."

"You know, you look really good in this."

"Oh?" Max raised his eyebrows back at Mirai. "Got something you want to talk to  _me_ about?"

Mirai batted her eyelashes at him, then ruined the effect by sticking her tongue out.

"You should wear it - hey!"

Max swooped in and kissed her nose, laughing.

"You two, stop horsing around," Tom's voice interrupted them. It had that familiar tone that said he was trying to be stern with them and failing signally.

"Max should wear this, shouldn't he?" Mirai instantly jumped to her feet and handed Tom his phone.

Tom looked down at the picture and raised his eyebrows.

"It's a good look on you, Max. You should seriously consider it."

Max groaned.

*

" _...representing the United States of America, Max Aaron!_ "

Max glued a smile onto his face as he glided towards his start position, trying to slow the hammering of his heart, counting his breaths. Out of habit, he reached down and tugged on the cuff at his wrist. The fabric was soft beneath his fingers, and for a moment, he was taken back to Josh's room, to sitting with his friend laughing and singing to the guitar.

Of course, it wasn't the same shirt. It was cut differently, and the smudges on it were darker, supposed to indicate soot and smoke rather than ghosts and memories. But the idea behind it was still the same as Josh's.

"Show 'em what you've got," Josh's voice laughed in his head. Max stood up straight, and got himself ready. He'd show them, indeed.


End file.
